Page 19 of Wicked Games

My eyes widened in horror as Richard shrugged out of his jacket and loosened the cravat at his throat. His hands then went down to the fastening of his trousers.

“I’ll scream again!” I warned.

“None of my servants would dare come to your aid,” he growled.

His cock sprang free and I couldn’t suppress a whimper. It was a massive, pulsing thing that intimidated me as much as the man who held it within his grasp.

Richard reached for my exposed breast and pinched my erect nipple. Biting my lip, I tried not to cry out.

“When I dropped you off at that asylum, the doctors warned me that often hysteria in young women was brought on by sinful thoughts and deeds.”

“You were the one who put me in that terrifying place?”

I couldn’t deal with what was happening now as well as process what had happened earlier. It was all too much. One moment I was at the cast party, the next I was in some sick asylum being tortured and now it was almost as if I had been thrust back in time to the Victorian era. It was complete madness. This was all some sick dream, a nightmare. Soon I would wake up in my own bed. Please God, let me just wake up!

“It was for your own good but now I see you need a stronger hand. A man’s hand.”

I started to rise up but his heavy palm between my breasts kept me down.

His other hand reached between my legs. Without any warning, he forced his two thick middle fingers deep inside me. Helplessly, I tried to clamp my knees closed but his strong legs prevented me.

“No longer a maid. Just as the doctors suspected. It seems I have taken an interest in your well-being just in time to save your soul from damnation.”

“You’re crazy,” I rasped as I tried to shimmy my hips backward to dislodge his fingers.

Slowly, he pulsed his fingers in and out of my tight pussy. As he forced my body to accept the intrusion, I could feel my inner muscles stretch and soften to his touch. Humiliatingly, the dry scrape of his fingers was soon eased by my own slick warmth. As he thrust inside of me, his thumb teased my clit.

My back arched. I could feel the painful press of the leather seat against my bruised and still punishment-heated ass.

Memories of his touch in my dressing room crashed over me. His rough kiss. The feel of his hand gripping my hair. The way he handled my body like he owned it. How badly I secretly both wanted and feared him. My kinky imaginings of what it would be like to have sex with him.

His palm moved to cup my breast. He squeezed the flesh roughly as he increased the speed and pressure of his fingers. Leaning over me, he thrust them harder and harder. I could feel the pressure build as my stomach clenched and my inner thighs tightened around his knee.

“Oh, God!” I breathed as my hips rose to meet his bruising hand. “Yes!” My own fingers dug into the cool silk lining of his coat, fisting the material as I gave in to the wave of pleasure he had just forced onto me.

When he tilted my head all the way back, I could feel the harsh scrape of his day-old shave against the delicate skin on my neck as he sucked and laved at the rapid pulse beating just beneath the surface. He moved lower to pull my nipple between his teeth. As he wet it with his tongue, he bit down hard, the very moment he pushed a third finger deep inside me.

A fierce orgasm ripped through my body as the pain heightened the pleasure.

My breathing came in harsh gasps as I hung limply half off the bench, unable to come to terms with what had happened between us. It was so fiercely raw and untamed. For the barest of moments, I let the rhythmic sway of the carriage soothe me as I forgot about him and my dangerous situation.

My eyes flew open the moment I felt his cock press against my now open and wet entrance.

“No! Wait!”

Ignoring my plea, he thrust in deep.

I screamed as my body instinctively tried to curl up, protecting itself.

His fingers did nothing to prepare me for the weight and girth of his cock. Oh, God, it hurt. It was too big. It felt like he had driven a pole deep inside me.

“Stop! Stop! It hurts,” I cried even as my body began to arouse and respond to his rough handling.

Placing a hand on either side of my head, painfully trapping my hair beneath his palms, his voice was rough with angry need. “You belong to me, Elizabeth. Accept your fate.”

Never in my life had I ever felt so completely dominated.

The weight of his body.

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